


Reunions

by RainySteve



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Other, Reunion, post-BoO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainySteve/pseuds/RainySteve
Summary: After almost a year, it was time to come home.





	1. Sally/Percy

Shock, pure numb shock is what Sally Jackson had felt when she opened the door to a taller, more muscular version of her son. He had a guilty look in his eyes that almost covered that one of having seem too much, almost.

She wanted to hug him and to yell at him and to cry, but she did none. She just stood until the feeling returned to her fingers and she could open the door wide enough to signal him to come in. He did, slowly.

"I-," he tried but stopped too soon.

Sally couldn’t take her eyes of him. He looked so much older, as if a year had been a life time. Her eyes finally stopped at a mark on his right forearm. It was a tattoo. Suddenly, some of her old motherly touch came back. “Please tell me that isn’t a tattoo, Percy.”

A weak smiled appeared on her son’s face. “Yeah. Sorry.”

"Well, let me see it." He offered her his arm and she trailed the two lines, the trident and the letters. "Aren’t those letters roman?"

"Yeah."

He explained, she listened. They both seemed a little more at ease after talking. Talking was familiar but they hadn’t done it in a while so it was fragile.

"Where’s Paul?"

"He had something to take care off but he shouldn’t be long." She sighed. "He’s going to be really glad to see you."

"Are you glad?"

"What?!" Sally grabbed his hand. "Of course I am!"

"You just seemed a bit…off." He bit his lip, slowly making her feel guilty. Whatever happened he needed support, her support. She was being silly.

"I was just a bit surprised," she explained. "You look so much older. I didn’t know-"

"What?"

"I don’t think it’s going to be the same anymore, sweetie."

Percy shut his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows. He always did that when he didn’t want to cry in front of her. She’d missed that face. “No, it won’t.”

Sally cupped his face, now slightly hinted with stubble. “But I’m always going to be your mom, Percy. And I’m always going to love you.”

He gave her a full smile now, he didn’t care to wipe the escaping tear. “I really missed you.”

"Believe me, I missed you more."

Paul arrived an hour later and they made it through a dinner. Everything almost seemed normal, like before. Except it wasn’t, and that wasn’t a bad thing, it was just different.   
Sally finally asked about Annabeth; to which Percy blushed and said was fine, she had gone to visit her own mortal family but had wanted to come. They agreed to call her soon and invite her. Sally didn’t forget about all those days that she had traveled to her apartment and they’d talked and cried together about Percy being gone. She missed her too.

When Percy finally relaxed enough to inhale his mother’s cooking he told them about his new friends. About clumsy old Frank and Hazel, about Jason and Piper and Reyna and even Couch Hedge. He didn’t fail to mention Nico Di Angelo and notified his mother and step-father about Grover and Juniper. They too were invited by Sally. Percy laughed at the thought of his odd gang of friends lounging in his apartment and eating his mother’s cookies. The battles and the war could be told later, when it wasn’t so fresh in his mind.

  
“Percy I-“

Later on she found her son fast asleep in his bed. A soft snore could be heard, his now too-large legs spread over the duvet.

She chuckled and proceeded to do the motherly ritual of tucking-into-bed. She passed her fingers through his wild, black hair and couldn’t help but noticed his tight grip on Riptide -which she knew laid beneath his pillow. She also didn’t miss the soft trail of drool.

That goofy twelve-year-old hadn’t vanished, not at all. He’d just grown-up.


	2. Grover/Percy

Annabeth didn't even hesitated before finding Grover, she’d seen the massive explosion and stood silent with everyone else as they slowly realized they'd just won another war. It didn't take her long to figure out the cruel reality of it all though. Gasping for air she turned looking for Percy (he'd been beside her just a moment ago) but instead found herself facing a tall satyr. He was clearly in charge, she could tell by the way he carried himself, and his horns stuck out a few inches above his curly head. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and a set of reed pipes hanging around his neck. She barely allowed him to utter a few syllables before she threw her arms around him, sobbing with relief and grief. Annabeth chuckled through her tears as she heard him bleat in surprise, shy arms enveloping her. 

 

For Percy it wasn't that easy. He just felt weird. Sleeping in his old cabin, having camp activities, not having to worry about his blood ending the world as he knew it and leading to his painful death. He was back to the old mundane problems of walking his pet hell hound and trying to catch up with Annabeth’s rants about architecture. Yet he was still waiting for the calm, for that nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to stay alert to shut up. Nothing went away. He wasn't the Percy that everyone here celebrated. He wasn't the Percy that was best friend with Grover anymore. Would Grover even recognize him? He’d been trying to talk to Percy all week but he always found an excuse not to. He knew he was hurting his feelings but he didn't want to have to face not being able to be friends with Grover. It was too much with Leo being gone; he preferred the limbo stage they were on. 

But Grover was getting frustrated. He wasn't the awkward goat boy anymore, he was going to get Percy to face him weather he wanted to or not. 

During dinner Percy felt Grover staring at him all the way in the Poseidon table. He turned to look at Annabeth so he could have an excuse not to face him and found that she was already giving him quite a hard stare as well.  _Just talk to him_ she seemed to say. She’d noticed him ignoring Grover and had pestered him in vain as to why he didn't just walk up to him. In all honesty, she was worried about Percy. He needed to talk to someone and she knew he kept some things to himself as to not to worry her (the idiot) and had hoped Grover could help her with that. She had Piper and Clarisse and Hazel. Percy was a stubborn mule that refused to open up, but with Grover he didn't have to, he’d know. 

Percy turned his attention back to his pizza and didn't look up once until he noticed Grover standing in front of him. “Heard your nosebleed almost cost us the war,” he casually stated, by now everyone was subtly listening. Percy didn't answer, no one could see how sweaty his palms had gotten. “Sorry about that.” 

Grover sighed.

Percy looked up. Grover, didn't look like Grover. He wasn't expecting the rasta cap kid he'd stood up for in the bus but this just surprised him. He looked like someone Percy would follow into battle without thinking. He looked impressive. 

He’d changed. 

Grover smiled, thankful for the little accomplishment, and filed out of the dinning pavilion alone with everyone else. Percy knew he was heading for the strawberry fields and followed. “It’s bittersweet.” Grover says when they get there.

“What is?”

“Winning a war.” Percy hates it when Grover goes all Psychological on him but lets him rant. “It’s sweet ‘cus the world didn't end, it’s bitter because of all the things you had to do to win it. You’re frustrated because it affected you, because you weren’t in control most of the time-”

“Grover..”

“...because you had to be saved, because you made mistakes.”

“Where are you going with this?!” That was one of the changes, Percy’s temper was quicker to surface now, more defensive than ever. 

“I get how you're feeling, Percy.”

“I know that! I really don’t need your whole satyr psychology right now!”

“It’s not that,” Grover sounded much older than what he was, “I lived this war too. I still do. And I know you hate it when i say this but...I’m still your Keeper, man...” He tried to cover his humid eyes with a dry laugh but gave up and let them fall. “...and Annabeth’s. When they told me you fell into Tartarus....i mean if there’s someone who could make it it'd be you two but I was still scared. When i was trapped you rescued me, and it killed me that i couldn't do the same.”

Percy didn’t know what to say. He’d always been the one to worry, the one to rescue, the one that lead. And it was a burden but it was easy to step up and do it because he knew it was the right thing, the one thing that would work. Seeing someone worry for him, want to rescue him, that was new. 

But maybe it wasn't bad. Maybe change wasn't bad, it was just hard. He couldn't save everyone, he couldn't save himself. He needed to be rescued once in a while. “C’mon, G-man,” they were both taller now, but still the same height, “Annabeth’s going to get jealous of you.” 


End file.
